Green envy
by your little wolf companion
Summary: A breton hero meets an Orc chieftain and the two fall in love... simple, right? Not really. Not when the Chieftain's bad luck in uncovered to be down to his deviant sisters. Dragonborn/Chief Mauhulakh. Set after Alduin's defeat. Rate M for later chapters. Please R&R. Its very much appreciated.


Green Envy

Chapter 1

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The wind howled around Narzulbur rather fiercely for that time of year Yatul thought while standing on the wooden barrack style structures that stood defiantly against the tough Skyrim weather and creatures that inhabited the Nordic countryside. The land was cruel but it was nothing the Orc people could not tolerate.

The sun hadn't long risen and behind her, the orc woman could already hear the rest of her tribe beginning to stir for the day. Yatul paid no mind however. It was normal for the family group to stir this late in the day.

The tribe that called Narzulbur their home were... _Unconventional_... to say the least.

The chieftain, Mauhulakh, headed the family group. If you could call it that. Yatul, Mauhulakh's aunt, rolled her eyes at the thought.

Mauhulakh had a nasty habit of losing his wives. The wives brought in to bring new blood into the clan.

Honestly, it was normal for a chieftain to lose a wife of so throughout his lifetime, but it wasn't just one or two wives the overly sensitive chieftain had lost. It was all of them.

Several wives had lost their lives upon entering Narzulbur, causing great anger throughout the other orc tribes throughout Skyrim.

As they came of age, the daughters of chieftains were sent away from their home tribe, sent to other strongholds to become wives to other chieftains and keep the bloodlines fresh. In exchange, the chieftain the girl was to marry would offer a dowry, be it livestock, weaponry or other trading goods.

But for all the ore his mine produced, Mauhulakh could no longer find himself a wife.

The word of his numerous tragedies had spread like wild fire throughout the strongholds in the lands, despite their distance from one another and Mauhulakh had found it harder and harder to find another chieftain who was willing to hand his daughter over to such an uncertain fate.

As Chief Larak of Mor Khazgur had once put it, most would rather send their female offspring off out to join the legion to die in battle like a true orc, then die giving birth to a child of a chieftain that was out of Malacath's favour.

With his situation not looking to get any better any time soon, the chief spent his days sulking in his seat outside the longhouse or sitting beside the graves of his past wives.

This depressive attitude was beginning to strain Yatul's last nerve. A chieftain needed to be strong. Unshakeable. And most importantly, in Malacath's favour.

As much as Yatul loved her nephew, she felt disgusted with his frankly ungrateful behaviour. He had herself and Bolar. They were all he needed in her opinion. He'd tried wives and he'd not been able to keep them safe. Now he needed to see she and her sister, his aunt Bolar, were everything he needed.

Unconsciously her lip began to curl with loathing.

"You have not slept again..."

Yatul started and snapped her head round to see her sister, the tribe's wise woman, Bolar, climbing the wooden ladder toward her. She carried a wooden plate in one hand and Yatul quickly went to her older sister's side, aiding her as she made it to the top of the ladder and stood.

"Thank you." The older orc woman murmured.

"I don't need sleep." Yatul replied to her sister's earlier question.

With a wary frown, Bolar handed Yatul the plate and watched as her sister began to greedily stuff the grilled leaks into her mouth.

"Where's Mauhulakh?" Yatul eventually asked between mouthfuls of food. The chieftain was not in his normal seat beside the door to the longhouse.

"He's at the graves again." Bolar said quietly, her gaze turning out toward the snowy landscape.

She heard her younger sister huff out a breath before wiping her lips and chin with the back of her gloved hand. "I should go and tell him to get over it." She said coldly.

"No!" Her sister snapped.

"Why not?"

Bolar grasped Yatul's arm then, squeezing gently. Bolar was not as strong as her hunter sister, but like any female orc, she possessed more strength then any nord or elf.

"You will leave him be." She ground out.

"He's being ungrateful."

"He's mourning."

"He's been mourning for months!" Yatul growled, pulling her arm from her sister's grasp.

Bolar did not recoil. She did not flinch. She did not fear her sibling. She held her hard glare and lowered her hand to her side.

Yatul's eyes narrowed and cut into her sister's as the two orc women glared at one another. The subject of their nephew's wives was something they both agreed and disagreed on. Bolar was well aware of the great love Yatul held for their chief. She too doted on the man, but there was a difference in affection.

"You feel guilty." Yatul hissed through her teeth.

"Perhaps." Bolar replied without hesitation. "I see my nephew sitting beside the graves of his dead women and I cannot help but feel guilt.

"You agreed to it..." Yatul hissed again, leaning into her sister's face before turning on her heel and beginning to pace the wooden walkway.

"I agreed because the first was not good enough..." Bolar shot back, following her sibling. "I didn't think we'd take it so far."

"Well its too late now, isn't it?" Yatul cooed mockingly. "Now the best you can do is make an effort with him like I do."

Bolar stopped and watched her sister ascend the second wooden ladder to a higher wooden platform.


End file.
